Battlefield: Bad Company - The Fate of the Legionnaire
by Newbie52
Summary: Following the relative success of The Last of Us: Shadow's of the Past, I have decided to remaster my previous Fanfiction Uploads. This story depicts the fate of The Legionnaire and the events that found Bad Company back to the front lines. Rated M for action. As always, comments and reviews are welcome.
1. Happy Memories

Two hours following the events of "Battlefield: Bad Company":

Driving down the road into an unknown future, the members of Bad Company; Redford, Haggard, Sweetwater, and the newest, recently valued and respected, Preston Marlowe. Still dressed in their military garb, they ran out of ideas about what they were going to do with the hundreds of pounds of gold in the back of their truck.

And for once, Marlowe was the subject of curiosity.

"You know, you never really said why you ended up in Bad Company," Redford said to Marlowe.

Hearing this, Haggard and Sweetwater stopped their incessant bickering.

"If it will get the two bozos back there to shut up, I suppose can tell a quick story," Marlowe said in amusement.

Marlowe took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. "My story is typical to any military family. My entire family has been in the military. It was an assumption that I would continue the line of duty. I went through training, perfecting every kind of weapon and fighting technique. Hand-to-hand combat, knife fighting, that kind of thing. Anyway, I received the highest marks in my training."

Marlowe's voice turned bitter as he continued his tale. "Once I got through training, some bullshit happened and I ended up sentenced to a desk."

"Shit break," Redford commented.

Marlowe laughed. "Believe it or not, I actually envied you guys. Sure, we're basically here to be used as target practice for the enemy, but at least Bad Company gets in on the action."

Haggard and Redford chuckled at the irony of the situation.

"You have a weird obsession with war," Sweetwater said with a laugh. "I think you should get yourself psychiatrically evaluated for that."

"Anyway," Marlowe continued loudly, discouraging further comments. "I got bored one day and decided that I wanted to fly a Blackhawk. Not too hard, actually. It wasn't a whole lot different than the ones that I watched my dad fly as a kid."

This time it is Haggard that interrupted. "Booooring. You stole something and didn't destroy _anything_? Maybe you _don't_ belong in Bad Company."

Amused, Marlowe looked in the rear view mirror at his companion. "You wanna hear the fun part of the story, Haggard?"

"Oh, very much so."

Marlowe continued. "I flew it just fine. But when I landed, I… kinda missed the pad and hit a…" Marlowe cleared his throat. "A General's limousine."

There was a short silence before everyone in the truck started to laugh.

Little did they know, it could be the last laugh they ever have.


	2. The Ambush

Suddenly, two trucks surged out of the nearby tree line fifty feet away from Bad Company's position.

"Oh, Shit!" Marlowe exclaimed.

"Evasive action!" Redford shouted.

Marlowe was able to do a U-turn with the truck and double back the way they came, barely keeping the weight of the gold from tipping the vehicle over.

Then, Bad Company saw him.

Forty feet away stood the Legionnaire, seemingly back from the dead and dressed in brown military garb, though he had his share of bruises. He also held a large weapon in his hand.

"RPG!" shouted Sweetwater.

Once again, Marlowe put on the brakes to turn the truck left. However, as he was turning, the Legionnaire blew apart the road near the front left tire. The truck hit the crater as it continued to turn and flipped twice, coming to a rest with gold blocks pilling onto the ground.

Bad Company climbed out of the truck as the gunfire started. Bullets pinged off metal and gold as the squad took cover behind the overturned vehicle.

Bringing out their side arms, the only weapons they had left, the squad separated half and moved to either side of the truck with Haggard and Sweetwater moving to the back as Redford and Marlowe moved toward the front. Just as Bad Company was about to return fire, a grenade bounced off the truck and landed between the pairs.

Marlowe and Redford both started shouting at once. "Take Cov—"

BANG.

The entire squad was blown two feet out of cover by the blast. Gold rained down around them. Their side arms were lost and all they could hear was the high pitched ringing in their ears due to the explosion.

As the ringing faded, countless bullets began to impact the dirt and the gold around them.

A voice shouted above the chaos. "Hold your fire, you morons! I want to finish this personally!"

A second later, the gunfire stopped.

Bad Company rose to their feet.

Marlowe and Redford slowly moved around the truck with their hands raised.

Haggard stayed behind, supporting Sweetwater who was looking in vain for his glasses that had been lost in the explosion.

"I can't see without my glasses," Sweetwater said lamely.

"And you bitch at me for saying cheesy phrases," Haggard grunted.

"Quiet!" Redford said sharply. He turned to Marlowe as the young soldier gazed at their enemy.


	3. Showdown

Marlowe locked eyes with the Legionnaire.

The two men that the Legionnaire had brought with him, also dressed in brown military garb, stood behind their master, awaiting further orders.

The Legionnaire spoke. "You have caused a lot of trouble for me this past week."

"Yeah, it's our pleasure asshole," Marlowe replied. He stepped forward and removed his helmet as Sweetwater and Haggard moved to stand next to Redford. Marlowe tossed his helmet aside. "Our week hasn't been so great either. Although, I will say it's looking up."

"You are very cocky for someone who is about to die," the Legionnaire replied. " _American_."

Marlowe took a step forward. "The name's Preston Marlowe," he clarified. "I know it may have been hard to read the patch on my uniform as I was shoving a rocket up your helicopter's ass."

"You!" shouted the Legionnaire menacingly.

The Legionnaire raised his sidearm and shot Marlowe in the left shoulder. Although the bullet was stopped by Marlowe's vest and didn't pierce through skin or bone, it definitely stung as it propelled Marlowe around so he was facing the rest of his squad.

It was then that he noticed Redford was fiddling with something on his boot.

Marlowe's eyes narrowed. _An ankle holster._

Redford winked.

Marlowe turned back to the Legionnaire and didn't move, scanning the ground for his own sidearm.

"I found these two men among the wreckage you caused," the Legionnaire continued calmly, motioning to the soldiers behind him. "We are all that is left. However, that much gold is more than enough to start over. All we had to do was follow your truck's tracks and cut you off. Obviously I know this region better than you. And now you will die. But not by _my_ pistol. You are not worth _my_ bullets."

Turning to one of his henchmen the Legionnaire traded his pistol for an AK-47 before continuing, walking forward and standing six feet from Marlowe.

"I wish I could savor this moment more," the Legionnaire said, unloading and reloading the weapon. "But I imagine your army is not far behind us, and I will need time to load the gold into my trucks."

The Legionnaire nodded toward his vehicle that was still parked a few hundred feet away.

Marlowe turned and glanced at Redford. Seeing that that the old was ready, Marlowe found a suitable weapon at his feet.

"Here," Marlowe said, crouching to the ground slowly. "Let me help you get started with the loading process."

Marlowe grasped and flung a large bar of gold at the Legionnaire.

The Legionnaire fired as the gold struck the AK-47. The fatal shots went wayward and Marlowe charged, tackling the Legionnaire to the ground.

…

Redford quickly grabbed his gun from his ankle holster and shot the Legionnaire's soldiers with lethal precision and the two men went down with bullet holes in their heads.

…

Marlowe continued to struggle with the Legionnaire for control of the AK-47.

Realizing that they were at a stalemate, Marlowe switched tactics. He quickly yanked the clip out of the weapon before pulling the trigger, emptying the chamber. With the gun now useless, a new battle ensued.

The Legionnaire kicked Marlowe off of him and then punched him hard in the right side of his head. In retaliation, Marlowe gave the Legionnaire a sharp uppercut to the chin, disorienting him.

The two combatants separated momentarily.

Marlowe tore off his vest to increase flexibility and threw it to the ground and glanced at Redford, who nodded and slowly lowered his weapon.

Marlowe grabbed his knife and advanced toward the Legionnaire before the enemy soldier could make a run for one of his men's weapons.

The Legionnaire grabbed his own knife.

They lunged toward each other, their hands moving as fast as the eye could see as their blades connected and whistled through the air as both men attacked and counter-attacked.

Marlowe side-stepped in order to dodge a kick from the Legionnaire before the other soldier slashed. Marlowe cried out in pain as the Legionnaire's blade met left behind a large cut on his arm.

Marlowe backed up a few steps and switched the knife to his left hand.

The Legionnaire lunged and his knife was batted away by Marlowe's cross block. Marlowe retaliated by lunging with his own blade. The Legionnaire backtracked out of the blade's path before kicking aside Marlowe's blade hand.

The momentum of the kick turned Marlowe, leaving his left side exposed. The Legionnaire took advantage of the opening and gave Marlowe a nasty wound just below his left ribcage. Marlowe cried out in pain and briefly knelt to the ground facing Redford.

Redford raised his gun to shoot the Legionnaire.

Marlowe shook his head with a wink and Redford lowered the weapon slightly.

Behind Marlow, the Legionnaire chuckled. He strode forward confidently. "You have guts, _American_. You can't fight, but you have guts."

"Well, you don't win wars without em'," Marlowe replied. He rose and slowly turned toward the Legionnaire.

Marlowe quickly slashed with his knife. A large gash appeared in the Legionnaire's chest.

Marlowe immediately advanced, pushing the Legionnaire back step by crucial step until the Legionnaire was flailing his knife and fist in every direction trying to fend off Marlowe's attack.

Marlowe ducked under the Legionnaire's left hook and struck again, cutting deeply into the Legionnaire's lower stomach. Marlowe spun away from a backhand came to a stop behind the Legionnaire.

In desperation, the Legionnaire swung his knife around to slice open Marlowe's throat. Marlowe took a half step back to dodge the blade and grabbed the Legionnaire's knife arm, before plunging his own knife through his enemy's sternum.

The Legionnaire stopped in his tracks and bent over in pain. Letting out a painful ragged breath, he slowly looked up into the eyes of his enemy. Marlowe's still held the enemy soldier's knife hand in an iron grip.

"Rookie," Marlowe spat.

Marlowe pulled out his blade and cut the side of the Legionnaire's knife hand, causing him to drop his weapon. Marlowe grabbed the knife out of out of the air before once again placing his knife into the Legionnaire's sternum.

Marlowe raised the second knife and stabbed downward, driving his newly acquired knife into the brain of his enemy.

The Legionnaire ceased his struggling and slowly stumped to the ground.

Marlowe took a step back. "This time, stay dead!"

Marlowe then succumbed to the pain of his wounds and fell to the ground.


	4. Back to Bad

"Marlowe!" shouted the remainder of Bad Company.

Upon finding his glasses, Sweetwater joined the rest of his squad, standing over their brother in arms.

Marlowe rolled over, shouting obscenities that would be frowned upon in the presence of most commanding officers.

"Yup," Haggard said with a laugh. "He's fine. Just in a _tad_ bit of pain."

"Come on," said Redford, helping Sweetwater haul Marlowe off the ground. "We may be able to load some of the gold into one of the trucks and get out of here before the army arrives."

"Unless they have a helicopter," stated Sweetwater glumly.

As if on cue, three U.S. Blackhawk helicopters swooped in over the tree line and proceeded to circle the site of the battle.

Everyone turned and glared at Sweetwater.

"Shutting up," Sweetwater said quietly, averting his eyes.

"Now what do we do?" Marlowe asked quietly.

"We wait," replied Redford just as quietly.

For once, the entire company stood in silence. The helicopters landed and troops created a perimeter around the site. An important looking, light skinned elderly man with a bushy beard in a clean and polished grey uniform walked toward the waiting squad. The patch on his uniform read General Smith.

General Smith stopped briefly and examined the Legionnaire's body, as if admiring Marlowe's handiwork. Looking up, he addressed the squad. "Does someone want to explain to me what the hell this is?"

A familiar voice came through a walkie-talkie attached to the General's hip. "This is Mike-One-Juliet. I believe I could be of assistance General."

"Is that you Mrs. July?" asked Haggard excitedly. Sweetwater elbowed him in the ribs as Marlowe and Redford raised their eyebrows.

The General held up the walkie-talkie.

"These men were sent beyond the neutral zone to complete a mission and were presumed KIA," Mike-One-Juliet continued, ignoring Haggard's outburst. "Fifteen minutes ago, I found out about a rescue mission in which Bad Company extracted President Serdar from the Legionnaire's mercenary forces. Bad Company evacuated the area using the President's personal helicopter before dropping him off safely on an uncharted island for his own protection."

"How do you know of these events?" General Smith asked. "We have no surveillance in the area surrounding the Serdar's palace."

"Our drone recons found Serdar waving his shirt as an S.O.S." replied the woman, not missing a beat. "Once we picked him up, he informed us of the preceding events."

General Smith was silent for a moment before nodding. "Continue."

The members of Bad Company glanced at one another, resisting the urge to grin.

"When Bad Company arrived on scene," the woman resumed. "One of the mercenaries claimed that that there was an ambush waiting across the bridge on the edge of the region. Bad Company destroyed the bridge to stop our tanks from rolling into a trap. They then shot down the Legionnaire's helicopter and secured the site."

General Smith turned to face Bad Company. "Why did you break convoy formation after we started moving the gold?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

Sweetwater spoke up with the critical lie. "When I was examining the gold, I noticed a tracking beacon and also a bug, sir. We couldn't tip off the rest of the convoy without the Legionnaire knowing," he explained. He motioned to the overturned truck. "We broke from formation until we could figure out what to do. Then we were ambushed. We assume that both the bug and the beacon were destroyed in the chaos along with the Legionnaire and the remainder of his squad."

"And Bob's your uncle," added Haggard.

Nodding, General Smith turned to Marlowe and Redford and asked. "Is that how it happened?"

"Yes, sir," Redford and Marlowe said in unison.

Finally satisfied, General Smith sighed and addressed the rest of his troops. "We'd better get this cleaned up. Thank you, Mike-One-Juliet," he said, turning off the walkie-talkie. "Gather up the gold and get it loaded into the helicopters. I want to be in the air in twenty minutes."

The soldier moved to follow their orders.

General Smith once again turned to Bad Company. "Well," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I _was_ going to court martial you all. But I think that congratulations are in order. You are to be returned to the front lines, effective immediately. We are starting another assault soon and I need you to soften up the Russian's defenses."

"Typical," Haggard moaned. "Is a 'thank you' too much to ask for?"

General Smith once again ignored the outburst. "Collect your gear, get medical attention, and be on the chopper three," he ordered as he pointed to the helicopter currently holding the least amount of gold. "You will be debriefed on route to your next mission. Move out."

"General," Marlowe called as General Smith turned to oversee the recovery efforts. "Can I have my knife back?"

General Smith turned and looked at the two knives protruding from the Legionnaire's body. "Which one is yours?" he asked.

"The one without the brain juice."

General Smith retrieved Marlowe's knife and strode over to the squad, returning the blade to its owner. "Whose knife is that?" the General asked, pointing at the knife stuck in the Legionnaire's brain.

"His," Redford answered, motioning to the Legionnaire's body.

General Smith raised his eyebrow and looked at Marlow. "Not bad kid."

Marlowe placed his knife back into his belt. "Thank you, sir."

With the faintest hint of a smile, General Smith turned and strode away.

As the team limped toward the third helicopter, Haggard spoke again. "Boy, it was sure nice of Mrs. July and the President to cover for us."

"I don't think this is going to work twice," Redford replied.

"No kidding," Marlowe muttered under his breath.

"Well, at least we'll all be together," Sweetwater said sheepishly. "Even though we lost the gold… again… to our own army."

"Shut up, Sweet!" shouted the rest of the squad.

And with that, Bad Company climbed into the helicopter, heading to a not so uncertain future.


End file.
